


damn, is that idris elba? and it might be

by blackcherrybomb



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Getting Together, I just want them to be happy, Letters, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, a mess, d20 cast if you see this look away, two boys in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28566915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackcherrybomb/pseuds/blackcherrybomb
Summary: Leiland hadn’t seen Markus for five months now.After saving the Bloodkeep, Leiland realizes he misses Markus. He misses Markus quite a bit.
Relationships: Leiland | Kraz-Thun/Markus St. Vincent
Comments: 10
Kudos: 53





	1. Impulsive Behavior

**Author's Note:**

> i dont really know what this is. this is also maybe one of the most obscure fandoms i could write this for. if an english teacher saw it, they’d be disappointed by the content and the grammar. i’m not sure where this is going, but i’ll try and update it thanks for the cooperation. leave a comment or kudos if you like it! it’s my first fic :)

Leiland hasn’t seen Markus for five months now.

The near-fall of the Bloodkeep and the coronation of Leiland Jr. was followed by a whirlwind of weeks. There were new laws to enact, new armies to raise, new systems to be put in place. Lilith did a beautiful job of it all, her spider brood by her side, preaching communication the whole time. It was really quite effective, at least compared to Zaul’Nazh and his horde of secrets.

Maggie was tied up in the duties of a mother. Leiland Jr. was still a baby, no matter how many spells he could cast or commands he could give. Leiland visited them often, either to spend time with the young Lord of Shadows or be a friend to Maggie. He had spent so long despising her, jealous of her relationship with Zaul’Nazh, that he failed to realize what a brilliant and compassionate woman she was. They spent many nights together, sharing a glass of wine or a cup of tea, discussing art (Leiland) and fashion (Maggie).

He made a promise to Sokhbarr to take better care of the wyverns. The young Lord of Shadows hadn’t take more Vinguri, so it was just Leiland for now, but he made an effort to be down at the stables more often. He wasn’t particularly fond of the smell or the sounds, but Sokhbarr was always good company. J’er’em’ih’s children were always eager to play. They scampered over Leiland’s boots and ducked between his legs.

And of course, Efink demanded that they all be down to the well to visit her. At first they went in shifts, but Efink insisted that she needed some inconsistency to keep her life interesting. Lilith could be found there whenever she had time in between meetings. On the occasions they met alone, Leiland and Efink vented about past lives and absent fathers. They played unfair games of chess. Leiland only won when Efink let him; she saw everything with her new foresight.

The only one of them that left the Bloodkeep was Markus St. Vincent. After the death of his brother, he headed back to his kingdom and reclaimed his throne. And he, of course, was tasked with steering his people on the course of evil.

He had been gone five months. And Leiland missed him terribly.

Markus promised, he swore to write to them while he was gone. He sent little trinkets as well, like toys for Leiland Jr. and a number of rubber ducks for Efink. And they sent letters and pictures back as well. As a group, usually written by Maggie as the others peered over her shoulder and added their own remarks.

Leiland often excused himself early from the letter-writing ritual to lie on his bed and try his very best to not think of smooth skin and smoldering eyes. Because if he did, his breath would come out quicker and shorter and he’d begin to think of strong arms and full lips, too.

And then he’d bolt upright. Swallow nervously, fix his crown, and take a moment to remind himself of where he was, who he was. He was the king of the Vinguri! He couldn’t go around, kissing pirate kings and acting on his feelings.

But god, how good it would feel to kiss Markus.

Leiland had only ever kissed one person, when he was a teenager and still alive. That had been quick and curious, a question that he wanted to enter as a ritual of growing up. He didn’t know what it would be like to kiss Markus. Maybe it would be messy, full of passion and wanting and waiting. Or maybe it would be sweet and soft, the result of intimacy and feelings he had never felt before.

He couldn’t. He was not allowed to; he had a reputation to hold.

Well. Did he, anymore? When he was alive, he had disapproving parents and siblings. But he had killed them long, long ago. Zaul’Nazh was gone. He was no longer committed to him, and little Leiland Jr. was sure to have no protests (him being five months old, and Maggie being his mother). His friends were all about communication and feelings and self-care and whatnot. So what, really, was stopping him?

Breaking from his usual musings, Leiland strides across his room, blue eyes gleaming and chest heaving, towards his letter writing desk. He’s disrupting a routine he’s repeated dozens of times now, of repressing feelings and busying himself with work.

Now that he’s got a quill in his fingers and paper under his hands, he’s unsure of what to write.

“Dear Markus,” and he stops, thinking of _dear_ Markus, “I must confess that I miss you.”

And from then he goes on, and on, describing fantasies and emotions and dreams he’s had, professing love he’s never felt before (is it love? He’s not sure). It’s long, rambling, and definitely not grammatically correct in some places. Leiland stares at it for a moment.

And burns it, paper and ink going up in blue flames.

What is he thinking? He’s better than this. He’s not so inept that he can’t figure out how to woo a man. He’s heard Maggie talk about her romance novels, and Lilith describe trysts with her suitors. He can do better than that.

So he starts again. And his next attempt is much better. Much tamer, even if it’s not all he wants to say. He hopes it doesn’t cross any lines he might’ve missed. Leiland was never good at reading emotions, especially not from humans. But he deserves to be a little selfish. There’s nothing vulgar in the letter (now there’s a thought, Leiland wonders how he could make Markus blush), just formalities and words he suppose: friends would exchange. He leaves a line from the first draft in, though: “I must confess, I miss you. Perhaps more than I should.”

A knock on the door. “Leiland? You in there?”

Shit. Maggie. Shit shit shit he can’t have someone see him like this, blushing and wild and unhinged. “I’ll uh, be there shortly! I just need a moment!” Leiland seals the letter in a hurry, can’t even let the ink dry. His name is signed hastily at the bottom and he hands it off to the hellspawn hawk perched by his window.

Maggie bursts through the door and the hawk is gone. The damage is done.

Well. No time to regret it now, he supposes.

He can only wait for a reply, as he’s dragged away by Maggie to babysit.


	2. Chapter 2: In Hopes of a Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leiland waits. Leiland is rewarded for his patience. aka markus writes a letter back and now leiland has to confront his feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's hard enough to keep in canon with my OWN writing smh. this is a little messy but i wanted to get this fic updated eventually. i think for bonus chapters i might write out leiland and markus's letters. i struggled distinguishing their writing styles and it's gonna be even harder when they meet again.

Leiland waits four days.

Four days of practically hanging outside his window like a fairytale princess. Ugh.

He remembers a time where he knelt, desperate, at the throne of the Dark Lord, holding a bit of ash in his hand and trying to breathe life (death?) into it. Was this like that? Would he be left high and dry again?

He walks to his mirror, sits, and stares intently, locking eyes with himself. He’d certainly changed since the fall of Zaul’Nazh. He looked different, certainly. A little paler, a little bluer. Less imposing and more majestic (if he could be vain, for a moment). There was no reason he’d garner different reactions as well.

Yesterday, Leiland had gone down to the well to visit Efink. And Efink had asked him about the letter. Of course she knew about the letter. She was all seeing evil! And what was more evil than prying on the private affairs of her friends? She promised she hadn’t told anyone, but it was likely she told Lilith. And, Lilith’s children probably heard, and they probably told others, and the news had probably spread all around the Bloodkeep.

His visit to Efink had not been totally in vain. She looked at him slyly and told him to not be worried. Perhaps something exciting would happen tomorrow night? One could never tell.

Leiland spent all of yesterday and all of today on edge. Efink had a way of doing that to you.

Night falls and no letter comes. Leiland thinks he might’ve been getting his hopes up, or perhaps Efink lied about the date, but he’s interrupted by a tap-tap at the window;

His hellspawn hawk is at the window.

Leiland stands, knocking over his chair in the meantime. Rushes to let the bird in, and take the letter pinned in its beak.

The wax seal has an eagle on it. It seems John Feathers has become the new mascot of Cael Stupe. He passes a letter-opener through it with trembling fingers.

He can’t open it. He’s shaking too much. Why is he so nervous? It’s not like he asked Markus to marry him (now there’s a thought).Leiland takes a breath, another, and reminds himself “You are wanted, you are special, you are loved.” Even if the letter is awkward and short he’ll be fine. It wasn’t personal, perhaps he just misread the situation. They won’t see each other for months, and by then, everything will have been resolved.

And so, Leiland opens the letter.

He reads through it, nerves alight and fingertips buzzing.

The beginning seems standard. Greetings, updates, nothing to indicate displeasure or particular excitement, really. But the last paragraph reads, “Your confession touches my heart. Oh, but Leiland, I hoped my words would be enough to hold you over. Perhaps not. I think I’m due for a visit. Can’t having you wanting me with no chance of a reprieve. I’ll make time to see you. I can promise you this. John Feathers has been meaning to visit.”

And now Leiland was surely out of breath. The shadows around him swirl as he clutches the letter, reading it a second time. Markus had some nerve. Claiming Leiland _wanted_ him and, and, and _promising_ him things. A silver-tongued pirate. It makes Leiland blush, and he puts away the letter to bury his head in his hands.

What was he supposed to say to Markus? He can’t write a proper, formal response like this. Oh, but he wasn’t some silly youth playing hard to catch. He must respond, on the count of his reputation. He was the King of the Vinguri! He could not blush or stutter over a mortal. He had to hold his place.

Leiland begins a return. He thanks Markus for his reply. He notes the Bloodkeep’s anticipation of his arrival. He mentions the sheer gall of Markus to write about reprieves and confessions (in a totally straightforward, non-flirtatious way. He thinks). Leiland seals the letter and sends it off, without a different bird this time. Sohkbarr would kill him if he didn’t take care of his hawks.

Leiland’s face burned. He did want to see Markus. But god, if letters could make him like this, what would a real conversation feel like? How would he react if he saw Markus’s face again, clean cut lines and burning eyes? He throws himself to his bed. He’d resolve these feelings in the morning.


End file.
